The Geometry of a Sigh
The town of Oakhaven was a study in grey. Grey skies, grey concrete, grey people. Every day was a photocopy of the day before: the 6:15 AM alarm, the lukewarm coffee, the twelve-hour shift at the assembly plant, and the silent dinner in front of a flickering television. I am Arthur. In a previous life, I was the Architect of the Singularity, a being who could manipulate the Planck constant and...
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